RWBY: The DAWN
by Dalastjedi
Summary: A generation before the events of RWBY, a team of unlikely oddballs will join forces to fight an ever growing evil.
1. Prologue 1

Purity Destroyed

Chaos erupted in the house, and explosions could be heard from outside. It was like a party rock in hell. Drake _de _Alexander Venari's mother was pulling him forward, towards the back door, but his father was not there. It sounded like heavy, stomping, footsteps were coming through the front door, and a yell could be heard as well.

His mother opened a secret compartment in the door. She pulled out her blunderbuss/pike and shot a man rounding the corner. 'Come on!' She yelled. She pulled Drake across the room where she shot two more men and they dropped dead.

But while his mother shot the two men, a third flanked the mother and child. Instinctively, Drake tackled the man. While he was down, Drake felt for something to hit the man with. He felt something. He felt a hilt, a trigger. It was a gun. He put it to the man's chest, closed his eyes, and pulled the trigger. The man laid dead in front of him as his mother grabbed him by the hand and pulled him along.

Drake and his mother reached the back entrance of their house. She opened the door and pushed him out. She was about to follow him when she heard the groans Mechanus. 'I'm sorry.' She murmured before closing the door. Drake was about to scream for his mother, about to call her and tell her to follow him. But he was cut off by the loud smash and crack of his house collapsing. He ran as fast as his legs could take him and as he did, a tear ran down his face.

Eventually he ran deep into the darkness of the red forest. There he wandered through the forest, and the Secculariuses* haunted his waking hours, and the thing he killed and his parents in the night. For many days he went like this, and there seemed no stop to his grief, and it seemed as even the Secculariuses felt it and left him. And so it was that the police found him, crying, after many a day's fruitless search, and took him in, and gave him in to the care of his father's friends. There they trained him, and sent him to an academy, where he crafted his Nightingale, and the Ursa's Claws.

*A Mechanus is a Robotic clockwork antique robot that utilizes dust as its power source.

*A Seccularius is a trickster-monkey Grimm, which is highly mobile, plays tricks, and messes with people in non combative ways, although that does not mean that those ways are not lethal 

Chapter I-The Fallout

He trained hard, for many months, and yet he thought that the life of a hunter was one that was for the weak, and helped few, and so he turned away from all help, and struck out a new life. He talked to many desperate people and, in exchange for dust, helped them with deeds that most shied away from. And now he needed a name, a new name. He called himself Sabre.

'Where's the dust.' said Sabre. The other man in the room seemed calm, and pulled up a dark blue briefcase, with no decorations, and a plain black handle, onto the dark mahogany table in the middle of the room. When he opened it, Sabre barely suppressed a gasp. Inside there was four rows of dark purple crystals. Purple dust. Sabre, regaining his composure, remembered that he needed to find out as much as he could from the man about his objective. With his usual bluntness with words, he said 'What do I need to do' with perhaps a tiny bit more excitement than he should have warranted for the situation. The man smiled and said grimly 'You'll need to kill a man, named Kilter Cooper.'

Sabre recognised the name. It was a well-known dealer, deep in the business of selling Cricen*. The man, Interrupting his thoughts as well as his seriousness said, 'You'll need to use all of your tactics to take him down.' Sabre suppressed a smile under his mask and said nothing. He continued by turning around and faced his back to the man. 'I'll get it done.' he said grimly. The man looked uncomfortable. Sabre only just suppressed the urge to rip his body in half and walked out the door. He would need to find him through other means.

*Cricen is a highly addictive drug made from dust that gives people elemental magic for a limited amount of time.

Chapter II-The Contract Fulfilled

Finding one of Kilter's clients, he quickly gained Kilter's location, at a shop in a backstreet alley. He quickly and silently ran over to find the house. Unfortunately, there were three guards outside the main entrance. Luckily he did not have to use any entrance. Using his Halberd, he propelled himself up on top of the roof of the apartment, and, choosing the most likely spot for a bedroom, he threw an explosive dagger. This blew apart the roof, and Sabre quickly did a deadly spin, tearing apart anything that was inside. He was not there. Sabre speedily ran downstairs, hearing the moving of metal. Downstairs he ran and stopped short when a giant shape loomed over him, a deadly shadow of his past. The Mechanus swung at him with one bladed arm, and prepared it's huge Gatling gun with the other. Sabre quickly evaded the Mechanus' blow, and planted an explosive knife in the Mechanus' gauntlet, severing it from its arm, and used it to slash the front of the Mechanus, to little effect. The Mechanus then moved its Gatling gun to face him, and missile pods sprung out of its back. Sabre evaded the first two salvos of machinegun fire, and then planted an electric dagger in the Gatling gun, disabling it. The Mechanus engaged it's missiles and delivered one deadly salvo. He knew he could not evade the rockets so he jumped up, as graceful as a hawk, and let the force from the rockets propel him forward, and he flew over the Mechanus' head, onto it's back, where he looked for a weak spot. There were none. With a grimace, he span around back onto its head and stuck three explosive daggers in its eye sockets. He planted his feet on the Mechanus' chest, and launched himself away just as it exploded in fire and ice.

He now needed to find Kilter. He ran out of the house just in time, and ran up onto the roof of the opposite building. He got on to the roof, looking for any sign of Kilter's presence. There was none. Not despairing yet, He quickly scanned the house one last time before he left, and saw Kilter, getting into his getaway car in the opposite alley. He leaped of the rooftop pumped at least three rounds from his Nightingale into Kilter's head, using the momentum to propel himself over to the next rooftop. He then quickly made his way back through the rooftops to the rendezvous point. He just hoped that the man wouldn't be so immature.

Chapter III-White Archer

He finally got to the rendezvous point, and as soon as he saw the man, he announced, 'It has been done.' The man stood still. Annoyed, he said, 'I want my payment.' Sabre was slightly tense, thinking he had been ripped off. The man, very sombre, said sorrowfully,

'I need you to do something.' Sabre, now quite agitated, With barely keeping his anger in check, he said gratingly, 'I have already done what you asked. Why should I do this for you?'

The man, with a sad sigh, said 'I'll double your pay.'

Sabre simply responded, 'I'm listening.'

Ten minutes later, and he was halfway across the city, wondering how to infiltrate this massive corporate building in front of him. It was guarded by at least ten guards in the front and ten in the back, and there was no telling how many were inside. The roof and the sides of the building were not possible options either. A faint glimmer betrayed the dust painted onto them, enough to destroy him utterly if he so dared to make one single attack on them, and certainly enough to alert the guards in the building. He knew there was only one way, which was to come in from the front entrance. He needed a stealthy way in. Ten more minutes, and he had devised a plan. Throwing an explosive dagger across the street, hidden by a building, was enough to attract their attention. While they were distracted, he slipped in. Inside, it was a very glamorous place indeed. Everything was made from marble, and there was not a speck of dust(the normal kind) he could see, and there were many intricate carvings on everything. After inspecting the area, He saw multiple groups of guards dotted around, and saw one solitary guard across the room, near the elevator. He quickly jumped from one of the bright white marble pillars onto the solitary guard, and knocked him out with the back of his Nightingale. Then, like a bolt of shadow, he shot across the room and got into the elevator, luckily, the elevator was on that floor at the time. He quickly hailed the elevator for floor three. For this time at least the man who gave him the contract gave him some reasonable details about where they were holding his target.

As soon as the door opened, everything stopped. He saw ten guards in the room, and saw the girl sitting in a chair on the opposite side of the room. She had medium-length blonde hair, white skin, with matching white leather jeans, with a white shirt, with the word "YOLO" imprinted on it, and a white leather jacket. She was crying. With a sweep and analysis of the room with his HUD implanted in his mask, he quickly took ten explosive daggers out of his pocket, and placed them in-between his knuckles in a long practised motion, and, like and angel of death, threw them at all the guards in the room, giving a split-second's illusion of wings on the back of Sabre. There was a blinding flash of light, and a ringing in his eardrums that he could hear for at least ten seconds. When he opened his eyes again, he saw no remaining trace of any of the guards, but, as he guessed, the girl was fine. She slowly opened her eyes, and, seeing a bounty hunter, clad in dark leather, with a giant halberd in his right hand, she became very scared and exited at the same time, and, without her knowing it, she started trembling. He came up to her and said with carefully concealed emotion, 'We need to go.'

Knowing that it was useless to resist the person who had just killed ten people in the blink of an eye, she grabbed his wrist. Unused to such contact, he jerked his hand away. She started, afraid. Unsympathetic, seemingly, he said noncommittally 'Do us both a favour and do as I say.'

The girl nodded and listened closely as the sound of footprints approaching grew louder. Sabre moved to a window and opened it as wide as he could. He gestured for the girl to approach. She reluctantly moved to his side.

'On my order, jump.' 'What?' she gasped in surprise. 'Unless you prefer option B.' The sound of the footsteps was getting louder and louder.

The girl turned and closed her eyes.

And they both jumped.

For him, even he was a bit afraid. He knew it was only the third floor, but it still would be a long jump, seeing as the height of the floors were ridiculous. From the outside it was impenetrable, but the runes did not protect against the people from inside going outside. Suddenly, he grabbed her by the arm and pulled her to his back and created an oblong, dark maroon shield out of his aura. He repeatedly fired his Nightingale, slowing their descent, and really hoping that she didn't break her back from the landing. Although maybe if the fall would make her pass out, it would really help.

She was exhilarated. The high speeds of flying through the air were even better than when she rode on a motorbike with her friend, and now there was actual danger, which was even more exciting. She screamed excitedly 'Wooooohhhhhh!' as they flew through the air.

They landed harshly, but not too much, on the opposing building. Thinking he had shaken the girl, he said gloatingly, 'not scared now?'

She replied unexpectedly 'that...was AWESOME!'

The two slunk into an alley where they hid in an abandoned building. Drake quickly closed the door and locked it. He grabbed her by the arm and handcuffed her to a pillar.

'Hey!'

Sabre just kept quiet and walked towards the window. 'We'll have to lay low until they give up on the pursuit.' He said through his mask's voice disruptor.

The girl slumped to the floor sulking. Sabre usually hardly felt sympathy towards others, but something about this girl's courage impressed him.

'Who are you by the way?' she asked, ending Sabre's train of thought.

'I'm the person who just saved you.' Sabre said still looking out of the window.

'My father sent you didn't he?'

'Unless you're not Nicole Lunas?'

'No, you got the wrong rich daughter of an aristocrat.'

Sabre fought to suppress a laugh. 'Then I might as well kill you.'

'That was a joke!' She said in shock.

Sabre fell silent for a while before turning to sit in a corner. 'Try to get some rest until we leave.' Nicole lay her head in her hands while Sabre slump to sleep. But he dreamt no dreams, because if there is one thing Sabre learned, is that dreams are not real.

**A/N: This story was created by Mazon48 and was co-written/edited by Dalastjedi (me). Neither of us own RWBY. All property of the amazing story that is RWBY belongs to Rooster Teeth and The Oum.**


	2. Prologue 2

Kind-Hearted

The creature was fast, very fast, and he could only hear it's padded footsteps. His father, like a light in the dark, was standing, with his deadly shotgun-axe, the Nightwither, at the ready, a great bastion against the night. He thought to himself "What a jolly good fellow my father is!" and then another figure walked out into the darkness, a woman, with twin crossbows, the Night Ravens, bolts at the ready. "And there's my mother, gosh, do they go together like apples and pears!" Nothing braced him for what was to come afterwards. Suddenly a large, dark shape burst through the clearing like a finger of death. His father and mother turned in unison to face this long-anticipated threat. It was a Balamau*. Before either could fire their weapons, the Balamau crashed into them, knocking them over like dominoes. The Nightwither's shot went wide, the last shot by that hand it ever made, and the Night Ravens never got a chance to fire. The screams haunted his memories evermore. He suddenly screamed with rage, and took his parent's weapons off the blood stained ground and exclaimed fiercely, 'Show yourself, you half-faced bastard son of a gun!' The Balamau obliged, bursting into the clearing again with the speed of death. But this time something was wrong. He was faster. He span around with the speed of a typhoon and shot both Night Ravens at it, which did almost nothing to the creature, and so it kept charging at him, but he was ready. He nestled the Nightwither's shotgun end right up with the Balamau's skull, and did not stop firing until there was no ammo left, and the Balamau was simply a mound of shadow.

*Grimm wildcat, very fast, stealthy, and more dangerous than a small pack of beowolves

* * *

Chapter I-The Forest of Ravens

He left in anger and great sadness, and, as he left, he cut one pine tree down, with the strength of a water buffalo, a sign of his presence. And for many days he wandered, lost with grief. But this was the forest of ravens for a reason, and they comforted him, and slowly, eased him out of his grief. One took an especial liking to him, and slowly they became companions, and shared between them a bond that no creature on that world could begin to understand.

'Well, hullo there!' he said as the raven alighted on his shoulder, 'My name's Abraham, how about yours?' and a voice seemed to respond inside his mind, 'my name is Doombeak, Abraham' and he replied, not minding that a raven had just talked to him 'That's a terribly depressing name, why do they call you that, my friend?' and so the conversation continued 'Well, because I am a bringer of ill tidings.' 'Really? Well, because I'm pretty sure you haven't given me any yet.' he said in well-meaning jest. The raven responded sadly 'Not yet.'

And so they walked through the forest, with no purpose, or goal, simply talking. But Doombeak was indeed a bringer of ill, for they were walking, inadvertently, towards the Dark-Bough.*

On one particular day, he and Doombeak were talking about the outside world, and Abraham suddenly realized that he should be doing something other than walking through a forest, talking to a raven, and decided to walk straight until they come out of the forest. They were yet to meet the Dark-Bough.

*Grimm oak-tree, extremely tough and strong, can move and hit things with tree-roots, heals most wounds immediately.

* * *

Chapter II- The Dark-Bough

Suddenly, after at least two days of hard travelling, they came across another clearing. But in this clearing no light shone. A colossal tree, with branches reaching to the far edges of the clearing, was standing in the centre. But it was unlike any tree they had seen before on their long walk through the forest. It's trunk was made of decorated bone, and its branches and what they could see of the roots were made of shadow. Doombeak uttered, so Abraham could only just hear, 'A Dark-Bough.' As if on cue, the huge tree rose angrily out of the ground, a dark doom rising. Abraham, the silence broken, said 'well, at least we've got something interesting to do now that bugger's alive' But then Doombeak muttered shamefully, 'but I can't fight' and then Abraham said happily 'That doesn't matter, go around and peck him or something, that'll distract him.' Doombeak complied, happy to do something to help Abraham in this dangerous battle. Suddenly one of the Dark-Bough's roots shot up out of the ground and grabbed Abraham's legs. He nimbly dodged the grasping root and then proceeded to shoot it with the Nightwither, which was followed duly by a curse 'Blimey, I don't have any ammo!' he exclaimed. By that time the root had already retracted into the ground and another was emerging right behind him. To his merit, he had sharp hearing so he quickly turned and quickly cut the emerging root with the Nightwither. To his dismay, it instantly healed the large cut, and Abraham, in desperation, cut it again, It always healed the cut, however large it was, and Abraham was there to try to hew a root yet again. For an entire day he battled with the tree, and Doombeak was there also, distracting the tree's branches. And so it continued. And with the close of day, Abraham, with the last of his strength, in desperation, sprinted for the trunk. He struck the Dark-Bough with such a strength that the entire forest heard the crack of the wood, and the Dark-Bough let out such a wail that Abraham covered his ears and shut his eyes and Doombeak, startled, fell from the Dark-Bough. Abraham had cleaved the trunk of the Dark-bough in the entirety, and the top half slid soundlessly to the right and toppled over. Abraham exclaimed, tired and yet excited 'Timburrr ho!' Sore, Doombeak said quietly 'we should rest now.' Abraham agreed happily, and they slept the night away in the clearing.

Chapter III-The Totem Pole

Both Abraham and Doombeak awoke feeling happy and fulfilled, and Abraham though aloud 'We should really make a trophy of that Dark-Bough' and Doombeak happily agreed to the suggestion 'I think that's the best idea you've had ever!' Then Abraham said jokingly 'I'm always full of ideas like that' 'Yeah right.' 'So right!' and so their conversation went on and on until Doombeak agreed grudgingly that Abraham was "Full of ideas like that" then they got to work. First Abraham had to work very hard with Nightwither to cut the Dark-Bough into a plank-sized piece, and then Abraham and Doombeak had to sit and think of what they should make. Doombeak suggested something practical "like a ladder, or a barrel" Whereas Abraham thought they should make something cool like a "Spear or something" eventually, after much arguing, they agreed on creating a pole, that could focus Abraham's aura*, act as a perch for Doombeak, and, could attach both Night Ravens on "like a double crossbow thingy" and so eventually they fashioned 'The Totem Pole'

*Abraham's aura is black, and allows him to perform amazing feats of strength, but only very rarely and NEVER more than once a week.

* * *

Chapter IV-Professor Ozpin

After defeating the Dark-Bough and creating the totem pole, Abraham and Doombeak set out once again after finding their direction in the confusing forest. For at least three days they walked at a brief pace, unknowing of what was following them. Also, Unbeknownst to them, they had passed through The Raven Forest, and, through paths unknown to Men* of after the Great Dawn*, they came to the Emerald forest.

Passing some ancient oaks, Doombeak and Abraham paused to admire the sanctity of the wood, which had been burnished over time, so, after many centuries, it looked as polished as the floors of a palace of kings. They stood to admire the oak, unknowing that two sets of eyes gazed upon them. Suddenly a dark shape burst into their view. A Carvus*. Elegant yet terrible, a visage of beautiful terror. Abraham leapt to the side, and, Doombeak, startled, flew up, and when the Carvus slowed down, he pecked it's neck, causing it no end of pain. After both Doombeak and Abraham regrouped, the Carvus had already turned to their direction, and they fully appreciated the viciously-pointed antlers of their adversary. 'That... does not look like something I'd like to get up close with. We should run' said Abraham nervously. No sooner than he spoke those words than another figure appeared near the oak tree. An old man, though not bent with age, with grey hair, yet vivid, dark, thoughtful, brown eyes, with a coffee cup with a strange symbol in one hand, and a walking cane in the other. Yet it was not so, for the cane flipped up, and a gleaming blade, made of shining steel, now protruded from the handle of the cane. The Carvus charged at him, but he was prepared. He quickly locked his blade in the antlers, defeating the Carvus' formidable attack. He then pushed his sword up, dislodging his blade from the antlers, and decapitated it in one quick blow. After the Carvus' body fell to the ground, he turned to Abraham and Doombeak. 'Well... Hello there. What is a child like you in the forest?' said the man.

'Errmmm'

'Yes?'

'My parents died' A tear formed in Abraham's eye. Soon Abraham was weeping again. Talking as little as possible, as was his fashion, he silently walked with the boy. He thought aloud to himself 'He has silver eyes.'

For many hours they walked, Abraham still not yet mastering his grief, now that it had resurfaced. Eventually, mastering his sorrow he asked a question. 'So, errmm, sir?'

The old man, intrigued, responded 'Yes?'

'You still have your coffee.'

He smiled, before saying calmly 'Makes no sense to waste it. Especially going on a journey like this.'

Still not completely content, Abraham asked 'So, what's your name?'

The old man responded in his relaxed manner 'Professor Ozpin.'

'And where are we going?'

'Beacon academy.'

*A Grimm stag. Impales creatures with its antlers, and It's head is often used as a trophy, due to its elegance. Quite fast while charging, and quite agile but relatively moderate speed while not charging.

*after the Great War with the Grimm

*By Men I refer to the human race (although Glinda Goodwitch probably knows about it. She knows about everything)

P.S. Galinda Goodwitch is SAURON

**A/N: The author, Mazon48, would like to give you, the viewers a chance to interact with the story. We need you to create two team-members to be put into a future team. Why only two, will be revealed later. We need details such as, but not limited to; gender, hair/eye/skin colour, weapon, aura colour, semblance, clothing, attribute, personality (probably not). The name of one of them MUST begin with a C and the other must begin with K.**


	3. Prologue 3

Grimm Heart

Running. The world is dark and the darkness has eyes, prowling through shadows like wolves through a wood. But the darkness was not the hunter, for wolves are not always on the hunt, and sometimes the hunter becomes the footsteps sounded softly, yet all so loudly, and with them came the deadly sound of a predator, a predator that was once a friend, but was now an enemy, like all things must eventually become.

An eerie whistling lunged through the air, and something pierced me in the back, like a dagger of misguided and evil betrayal. And with that came pain, but with that pain came surprising cold, relaxing and calm.A shape towered over me, a dark looming tower of the inevitable, filled with fangs of steel. The footsteps stopped like a rabbit feeling the eyes of a predator, or a creature gloating over its kill. There was sadness there, or bittersweet triumph, though I could not place it, and all faded into shadow.

* * *

Chapter I - The Rebirth

The world was of shadows again, yet it seemed that a long time had passed, and a great many things, seemingly small but with far-reaching consequences, had come to pass. And still a shape towered over me, a shape with eyes of fire, and a body of darkness that blotted out everything else. I heard a pained cry then a whimper, like a dog being beaten by its master, and all went dark again.

Now I woke up, and I was in a bed, or what felt like a bed, but had no blankets except what seemed to be a cover of solid shadows. The time of day was not apparent, and the sky could not be seen, as well as everything else in the room. There was a presence nearby, although I could not tell what, which felt dark, and cold, and suddenly I could feel my own body. It felt as though it had changed greatly, yet stayed the same. I felt stronger, both in body and soul, and in what felt like countless other ways, yet I also felt chilled, despite all I could do to prevent it.

Suddenly I remembered the presence, and fell off the what-seemed-to-be-a-bed-but-was-most-probably-not, and I heard, or rather felt, a chuckle. I felt a strange, detached, amusement, like one watching a clumsy chick, and felt a strange, yet irresistible, compulsion to move towards the source, and I complied, against most common sense, and, suddenly, I was a new being, and, indeed, I could remember little of what had happened from when before I woke up.

I felt a sense of pride from the presence, and I went back to the not-bed, as I called it, and drifted back to sleep.

The next day the darkness almost felt at home to me, and I supposed it to be the power of my new being, but I also felt more, dark, myself. Like I had grown at home to the dark, and so I was more shadowy myself, but not as an evil being, it was simply more aligned with shadow. I also awoke with a ravenous hunger, and I was provided food of a strange sort, food-but-probably-not-food. It was, like everything, made from shadow, but filled me almost wholesomely. Almost.

* * *

Chapter II - The Awakening

Many days passed, I knew, though I could never see the sun or moon, and still all was in darkness, like a dark creature's belly. But with everyday I became stronger, like a nurturing killer's womb, and with everyday I was more of a shadow myself. I started seeing dimly in the darkness, and, eventually, I felt as if the shadows were my cloak, and, indeed they became one.

Still more time came and went, and, one day, I could see. Seeing was like feeling there was something right beside you all the time, while you secretly rebelled against it, and, once you accepted it in full, you became its master. As soon as I could view the room about me, The Presence greeted me in full. It announced with a deep voice I never heard again, save in my mind. It announced proudly and in a deep voice, dripping with power, 'I am The Alpha.' Eventually, that voice would be the spark that started a fire, a fire that would remake the world, but that was far in the future, far after The Alpha.

And yet another mystery was revealed to me, as well. The not-bed was revealed to me in full, and it was a great structure, one of murk, and was stronger than steel, yet as soft as spider-web, waiting to ensnare its enemies in its eternal webs of dreamless sleep.

At first I was hungry, very hungry, like a wolf hungering for a meal of tender, juicy, flesh, from another wolf as much as a little girl. So then I took my meal from the pack. Then I was thirsty, as thirsty as a wolf who had been out in the unforgiving forest for far too long, as happy to take blood as water, and so I slaked my thirst, too, from the pack. I felt the need for claws to snatch, to take or steal whatever I wanted, and so it was that took it from the Beowolves. I wished for the power of death, the potency of poison, like the wicked and long dagger of betrayal, and I took it from the Death-Stalkers. And I hungered for the power of shadow, to envelop me like a cloak, a cloak that hid my true form, and created a human form in its place. So it finally was that I took that from the Murk-Spinners*. Finally, I wished for the dominion of all things, and I needed to take that from the humans, and I proclaimed that to The Alpha, and so he revealed to me my true purpose In the Grimm. I was to masquerade as a human, and to, slowly, learn all that there is to know, and then to take the humans, and to give the Grimm control of all things. From that day forward, I was part of something much larger. To be fast, strong, and powerful, and to take all the things that I wanted, and that The Alpha, as well, wanted.

After that day, I learned the true meaning of Grimm. He who has mastery of the shadows, and he who has the strength to take that mastery, and drape the oppression, like an over-heavy blanket, over all others. That, is truth, or was truth for the present.

*Grimm spiders, spin webs of shadow for fellow Grimms to reside in and create Grimm dust, a substance that destroys nature, and replaces it with a Creature of Grimm(respective to kind of creature corrupted)

* * *

Chapter III - The Way of The Grimm

For a long time I lived among people, creeping into their lands and kingdoms like a wolf creeps into a cottage. And for a long time a bided my time, discovering information about all the kingdoms, and learning all their weaknesses, and strengths. And for a long time I thought about power, and The Alpha. It seemed to me as though The Alpha was doomed to die, as all things, and It's friends would to turn to enemies, as was inevitable, and the weak would die, and the strong would take the power and gain mastery over others.

And so eventually it came to pass that I, knew that I had to kill The Alpha. Not for power-lust, not for greed, but for the way of the Grimm.

At night, prowling through the shadows, like a wolf creeping through a wood. Nothing had ever made me feel more alive than knowing what to do, and doing it. I crept into the ancient ruin, my footsteps sounding softly, my prey was my friend, and master, yet not, not anymore. It is the way of the Grimm.

In the clearing I saw The Alpha. He was huge, easily 4 times my height, and had a shimmering darkness wrapped around him like a cloak. But despite all appearances, I was stronger. He did not see me. I suddenly lunged at him, an eerie whistling through the air. He moved quickly, and sidestepped my strike. And disappeared into the shadows. He did not vanish for long, though, as he dashed out like a snake, and stabbing at me fiercely with his colossal talon. I used my murk cloak to deflect it, and raked along the entirety of The Alpha's belly. But this was not to kill. Like a wolf raking a boar's back, merely to weaken it, while probing it for a weakness. Like I had done with Man. But even though I had scored a strike, he had still not showed all his might. Suddenly dark shards, like terrors out of some dark dream formed around him, and they shot towards me like the claws of an eagle, reaching out to take me and rip me from limb to limb. I knew the murk would not protect me this time. I rushed towards The Alpha, a tornado of claws, and I unleashed the killing blow. I struck out with my stinger at his unprotected thorax, and injected my deadly poison into it, like the final death blow to a great creature from a weapon it had created. I then ran the stinger through the rest of his body, like gutting a pig, and he collapsed.

* * *

Epilogue

As soon as I killed him, his power flooded through my body. I found I had mastery over darkness, and I could manipulate shadows like wind manipulates fog. I could also form shards of dust, and use them to strike my enemies, and give them to my 'friends'. I also became the Alpha of the pack, and so I had many things to do. I still walked among Men, and I still hungered for power. But the fuel was catching, and great events were about to come to pass. The world was changing.

**A/N: The OC suggestions are still open. Submit yours now in the review or PM me. Or we might just have to end up creating more OCs ourselves. *Distant audience moaning***


	4. Prologue 4

Ladies Man

The boy watched in horror as the blade dropped down. Blood sprang out like a vibrant red, deadly, sorrowful, flower. He screamed in anger, and in frustrated humiliation, trapped inside a cage of glass, with a thousand evil eyes watching him, unblinking, and gaze was drawn inadvertently towards another gruesome display. A horrible parody of a living man was shown to him, with a blood-soaked body and empty eyes. Again he screamed, and this time arms like steel grabbed him by the shoulders, and heaved him into where the dead body was. He was thrown into a deep pool, with shadows swimming in the depths. Suddenly a shape lunged out of the darkness. Eyes like glared like hot coals came burning, and shards of darkness sprang at him from the shadows. A Squalos. Remembering his training, he quickly evaded to the left of the teeth, and snatched one of the foot long, needle sharp teeth to use as a weapon. The Squalos*, infuriated by its prey's survival, lunged at the boy with all its might. He quickly evaded once again, and saw the sheer size of the creature before him. It's mouth was large enough to swallow a man whole, and it's tail was like a colossal knife. He felt a terror seize his heart, but he resisted. Taking the tooth, he sliced a gargantuan cut from its head to its tail he felt it tremor in agony, and he quickly swam down, finding a oxygenator and escaping through it. Unknown to him, the beast's wounds regenerated, and it vowed revenge.

*a Squalos is a shark-Grimm, that his a huge shark, and can shoot it's teeth out of its mouth, which then instantly regenerate. It does not possess the power of wound regeneration, though. Read my alpha theorem.

* * *

Chapter I-Escape to The Snowy Forest

He went through the moist, cold, tunnels, and there, in the steel walls, he let his grief out. It could be heard echoing throughout the entire complex, and most of the guards thought it was a ghost, a spirit of the dead screaming out its grief and rage. Most of the guards did not investigate. The mechanical ones, not inclined to superstitious belief, followed in. The tunnel worked as both a curse and a blessing, and so he heard them as soon as they set foot inside. Snapped out of his grief, he quickly made his way through the maze, fleeing from the mechanical monsters for what seemed an eternity. But he was only human, and he knew he would soon be forced to fight them. Seeing no other option, he kept on his path, going straight along the vents, aimlessly. But it seemed that death in the vents was not his fate, and by luck or some higher power, he chanced upon the exit. Compared to the vents, the outside world was glorious. Snow, like angels descending from heaven, graced his dirty and sweating skin, and clean, crisp air found its way into his lungs. He laughed in joy for his escape from the tunnels, his grief and the Venaticos following behind. Regaining his senses, He knew he must find somewhere, anywhere to go, to escape from the machines following him.

And so he ran. For what seemed like eternity for him he ran, and he saw nothing, so focused was he to continue running, and to the sounds of the Venaticos behind him. For what seemed to him many nights and days, though he only ran for the time of two hours, and then finally sound of the seeming tireless Venaticos* suddenly stopped, and then came again, but faded away. He collapsed on the ground, fatigue mastering all his thought for now.

*a hunter-killer robot, with a body of a giant dog, and Equipped with purple dust(poison). It's power is not in direct strength, rather it's in stalking it's prey and killing it with one small bite (like a komodo dragon)

* * *

Chapter II-The Big City

He eventually came to, to see a concerned face above him, watching over him. He started, thinking that his family's murderers had caught him again, only to hear a reassuring voice in his ear.

'Don't be scared, it's all going to be alright.'

He intrinsically trusted the voice, and drifted back to sleep quickly, but not before noting a funny smell in the air.

He awoke to sounds of rushing and dreary excitement, and the smell of something acidic. The face was not over him. He called out, hoping someone would come. The woman came again. She said,

'So you're okay now?'

He replied, 'yeah. I'm fine.'

'You'll need to come with me now.'

Knowing that there was really no point in doing anything other than complying, he got up out of his bed and followed her to wherever she was leading him. As soon as he got up, he realized he was in a hospital. Of course! He whispered an 'ooohhhh' of understanding and the nurse turned to look at him. She asked 'What? Is everything okay?' He replied nonchalantly, simply, without bothering to explain 'That's why it smelled funny.' Hearing enough to understand, she continued walking. Eventually, after walking through the big city, they eventually got to an apartment block, with children playing outside. At that moment she informed him that that was his home now, and he should go talk to the headmistress. Indicating that he was going into the building, as soon as she was out of sight, he quickly vaulted over a fence and went out of sight. He knew that the city was not safe. His family had many enemies, and they would not stop with just his mother and father dead. They would seek to kill him as well, and the city would be the easiest place to find him. He quickly made a break for the nearest road, and followed it until he could find a place where he could be safe.

* * *

Chapter III-A Quiet Place

He followed the trail for at least a day, before coming upon the perfect place to hide from the Venaticos that was undoubtedly following him. He entered the village, pausing to look for anything that could be a job. Eventually he found one. It was a job offer for an apprenticeship at the local smithy. He knew that it would be a very good job for him, because he also needed to craft weapons, and being at a smithy would help him with that. He knocked on the door, and he looked at the man in front of him. He was quite young, but looked about double his age, from the scars across his face, and his eyes which spoke of great wisdom. He invited him in, and asked him why a boy like himself would want to work in a place like this. The boy inwardly sighed. This was going to be a lot harder than he thought it would be. 'So what's your name, lad?' he said in his gravelly voice. Startled, he had not enough time to react, so, by instinct, he blurted out his real name. 'Nathan Grey, sir'

Without any other prelude, he said 'You've got the job.' From the man's wisdom, he knew that this child was trustworthy.

The man, whose name was Irin Stonehammer, had not had his wisdom betray him. Nathan was a hardworking apprentice, always completing the required tools, and spending his spare time training with his dual pistols, "The Silver Bloods" He chuckled. He found it amusing that all the young people would give their weapons fancy names. He didn't find it amusing. He found it hilarious. He laughed again.

* * *

Chapter IV-The Venaticos

Nathan knew it was coming long before it came into sight of the town. He had improved every aspect of himself, including his aura, and he knew he could defeat it now. It crashed into the clearing, a evil joining of dust and metal, with glowing purple eyes. He knew that one bite from it would kill him without doubt. But he knew he could defeat it. It charged at him, or what it thought was him. It bit into empty air. Nathan was on the other side of the clearing, smirking at his power over the thing that had tortured him as a child. He could hear it howling from here, and he placed a few other hallucinations of himself around the clearing, before opening up with The Silver Bloods. He had recently taken his savings and bought a small amount of red and white dust for his weapons, so he could more effectively destroy it's armour, but it fired conventional rounds as well, and those would be used for the killing blow. Bolts of fire and ice shot out of their muzzles, and the Venaticos roared in pain. Caught off guard, it staggered, having it's guard down. One strike was all that he needed. He quickly ran up to it and shoved both of his pistols into the side of its face. He emptied the clips, and the deadly Venaticos was just a pile of scrap metal. He went back into the town to be congratulated by everyone. Especially the ladies. He went back into his house, which he owned once he took over the blacksmith business, because Irin had retired, and met his woman for the day. Even though they were having a great time in bed, he had other things on his mind. Now that the Venaticos had found him, the village was no longer safe. He needed allies now, he needed to become stronger, and he knew just the place.

Beacon.

**P.S. Seriously though, send in OCs...or we might just have to crossover with My Little Pony**


	5. Chapter 1

Dealing with The Devil

Note: Wolf is commentating from future in his POV

Sabre had yet another contact, just another one of thousands he had accepted, but, this one was different. It, for some strange reason, chilled him to the bone. There was really no reason to be afraid, yet; there was something gripping his soul like a vice, and so, he was still, in his bones, afraid. With a considerable amount of willpower, he continued to walk down the dark alley, like a man going into a dark beast's mouth. As was instructed, he went into the thirteenth branch on the left side of the alley. Waiting for him was nothing unusual, yet something in the air of it, made him want to close his eyes and run, but only slightly. The man in the black robe said nothing. Feeling that he must break the silence, struggling to control his fear, he said 'What do you want me to do.'

At first the man in the black robe did not respond, and Sabre stood, unsure what to do. Then, after what seemed a long while had passed, the man in the black robe suddenly spoke, in a voice that was smooth and easy, yet carried with it brooding cold and hint of death and venom 'Take the books of the four kingdoms.'

Unsure what the man meant exactly, he broke the silence by asking the second of his usual two questions. 'What's the payment.'

Without speaking, the man in the black robe extended his palm, and a crystal suddenly materialized out of shadow into his palm. A crystal that was black as if all the shadows in the world were condensed into one single shard of power, and there were hints of red as of the eyes of a creature of Grimm, intent on destroying everything. It was a fascinating crystal, and, being a collector of such rare crystals, he could only just barely tear his eyes away. Remembering his mission, he walked away. I thought he was very strange; and, yet, he was, as it seemed, to be the best "bounty hunter", as the humans called them, in the city.

* * *

He padded softly down the dark and dingy alleyway, made with concrete cemented with filth. It smelt like the one time he went into a trash compacter to get into a building undetected. The ground beneath him made sounds that he did not wish to mention for a long time, and he heard rats chattering everywhere. He lived on the streets, but, even for him, this was a bit much. The man in the black robe had told him to "Take the books of kingdoms" and so he guessed that he wanted cartography books about the kingdoms. To get a good variety of them, enough for someone willing to pay a one of a kind dust crystal for them, he needed to go to the National Library. To avoid all the patrols around, he needed to take this path, and he was annoyed that he had made the decision to go down this path.

He continued trudging down the muddied path, hoping that soon he would finally get out of the filth and onto the clean streets neighbouring the National Library. The clean streets were like heaven compared to the filthy alleyway. The smell smelt of nothing evil, the streets looked like they had just been paved, although they were a hundred years old, from the time of the Faunus war, and the cold, hard feel of them was something anyone would desire. Shaking himself from his subconscious thoughts about the road, he readied himself to rob the library.

Using the Nightingale, he sprinted towards the vent in the side of the imposing building. He tore through the strong steel like a beowolf tears through string. The vent was cold and dry, and the moonlight reflected from the mirror like sides, providing illumination for him to proceed. He crawled slowly in the eerily illuminated vents, and he always wondered when he would finally find an end. After what seemed a great length of time, he chanced upon the entrance into the main building. Without thinking, he used the Nightingale yet again to propel himself over to the books, yet, try as he might, something was watching him. He perused through the books, for the moment engrossed in finding the Map section, unknowing of what was watching him with inanimate eyes. After filling his arms with as many books he could, and made for the vent. Suddenly a Chelybs* tackled him over, and sent the books flying all over that section of the library.

Caught off guard, he had no time to ready his weapon, and was propelled again across the room by the Chelybs, helpless against its frequent attacks. It kept on hitting him with its fists of steel, fuelled and augmented by the great power of dust, which was both a blessing and a curse, and he felt his consciousness slipping away from him. The world, as he perceived it, was sinking, under a great wave of unthinking darkness. Two giant red eyes rose out of the gloom, and they filled him with a sudden, inexplicable terror, and they rose to a great height, out of the eyes of any man, but, like a tyrant ruling his people ruthlessly with iron claw and unblinking eye, the fear remained. He slipped away into a dreamless sleep, far away from the library, far away from anywhere that he knew.

He awoke in a unfamiliar room, but with a familiar face over him, and there were no red eyes, and no terror, just a calm relaxing feeling, one Sabre had not experienced in a very, very long time, very nearly beyond the reach of his memory, but still faintly recognizable. Sabre mentally probed himself, asking each part of his body how it felt, as he had trained himself to do, and he found he was fully healed, but his body told a different story when he tried to sit up. Lancing pain coursed through his muscles, and he felt a hand, quite feminine, push him back into bed, and he heard a faintly familiar voice, the name belonging to it dancing away from his memory like an elk from a hunter. The voice said 'You're safe. Don't worry.' It said in a coaxing voice, and then said in a stern voice but then breaking and turning into laughter 'so just lay down!' With the light hearted laughter to back it up, he accepted gratefully, without wholly realizing it, the voice's suggestion, and drifted off into a comforting sleep.

She looked at the man, still in his dark, dull, leathers, lying there, and smiled involuntarily. She thought back to when he saved her life, and she thought it was funny that now their roles were reversed, with her putting an arrow in the back of the Chelybs' head. Her smile grew larger, and she went to take a rest of her own.

*a cybernetic human that uses dust as a power source and a weapon, very fast.


	6. Chapter 2

Dealing with The Devil

Note: Wolf is commentating from future in his POV

Sabre had yet another contact, just another one of thousands he had accepted, but, this one was different. It, for some strange reason, chilled him to the bone. There was really no reason to be afraid, yet; there was something gripping his soul like a vice, and so, he was still, in his bones, afraid. With a considerable amount of willpower, he continued to walk down the dark alley, like a man going into a dark beast's mouth. As was instructed, he went into the thirteenth branch on the left side of the alley. Waiting for him was nothing unusual, yet something in the air of it, made him want to close his eyes and run, but only slightly. The man in the black robe said nothing. Feeling that he must break the silence, struggling to control his fear, he said 'What do you want me to do.'

At first the man in the black robe did not respond, and Sabre stood, unsure what to do. Then, after what seemed a long while had passed, the man in the black robe suddenly spoke, in a voice that was smooth and easy, yet carried with it brooding cold and hint of death and venom 'Take the books of the four kingdoms.'

Unsure what the man meant exactly, he broke the silence by asking the second of his usual two questions. 'What's the payment.'

Without speaking, the man in the black robe extended his palm, and a crystal suddenly materialized out of shadow into his palm. A crystal that was black as if all the shadows in the world were condensed into one single shard of power, and there were hints of red as of the eyes of a creature of Grimm, intent on destroying everything. It was a fascinating crystal, and, being a collector of such rare crystals, he could only just barely tear his eyes away. Remembering his mission, he walked away. I thought he was very strange; and, yet, he was, as it seemed, to be the best "bounty hunter", as the humans called them, in the city.

* * *

He padded softly down the dark and dingy alleyway, made with concrete cemented with filth. It smelt like the one time he went into a trash compacter to get into a building undetected. The ground beneath him made sounds that he did not wish to mention for a long time, and he heard rats chattering everywhere. He lived on the streets, but, even for him, this was a bit much. The man in the black robe had told him to "Take the books of kingdoms" and so he guessed that he wanted cartography books about the kingdoms. To get a good variety of them, enough for someone willing to pay a one of a kind dust crystal for them, he needed to go to the National Library. To avoid all the patrols around, he needed to take this path, and he was annoyed that he had made the decision to go down this path.

He continued trudging down the muddied path, hoping that soon he would finally get out of the filth and onto the clean streets neighbouring the National Library. The clean streets were like heaven compared to the filthy alleyway. The smell smelt of nothing evil, the streets looked like they had just been paved, although they were a hundred years old, from the time of the Faunus war, and the cold, hard feel of them was something anyone would desire. Shaking himself from his subconscious thoughts about the road, he readied himself to rob the library.

Using the Nightingale, he sprinted towards the vent in the side of the imposing building. He tore through the strong steel like a beowolf tears through string. The vent was cold and dry, and the moonlight reflected from the mirror like sides, providing illumination for him to proceed. He crawled slowly in the eerily illuminated vents, and he always wondered when he would finally find an end. After what seemed a great length of time, he chanced upon the entrance into the main building. Without thinking, he used the Nightingale yet again to propel himself over to the books, yet, try as he might, something was watching him. He perused through the books, for the moment engrossed in finding the Map section, unknowing of what was watching him with inanimate eyes. After filling his arms with as many books he could, and made for the vent. Suddenly a Chelybs* tackled him over, and sent the books flying all over that section of the library.

Caught off guard, he had no time to ready his weapon, and was propelled again across the room by the Chelybs, helpless against its frequent attacks. It kept on hitting him with its fists of steel, fuelled and augmented by the great power of dust, which was both a blessing and a curse, and he felt his consciousness slipping away from him. The world, as he perceived it, was sinking, under a great wave of unthinking darkness. Two giant red eyes rose out of the gloom, and they filled him with a sudden, inexplicable terror, and they rose to a great height, out of the eyes of any man, but, like a tyrant ruling his people ruthlessly with iron claw and unblinking eye, the fear remained. He slipped away into a dreamless sleep, far away from the library, far away from anywhere that he knew.

He awoke in a unfamiliar room, but with a familiar face over him, and there were no red eyes, and no terror, just a calm relaxing feeling, one Sabre had not experienced in a very, very long time, very nearly beyond the reach of his memory, but still faintly recognizable. Sabre mentally probed himself, asking each part of his body how it felt, as he had trained himself to do, and he found he was fully healed, but his body told a different story when he tried to sit up. Lancing pain coursed through his muscles, and he felt a hand, quite feminine, push him back into bed, and he heard a faintly familiar voice, the name belonging to it dancing away from his memory like an elk from a hunter. The voice said 'You're safe. Don't worry.' It said in a coaxing voice, and then said in a stern voice but then breaking and turning into laughter 'so just lay down!' With the light hearted laughter to back it up, he accepted gratefully, without wholly realizing it, the voice's suggestion, and drifted off into a comforting sleep.

She looked at the man, still in his dark, dull, leathers, lying there, and smiled involuntarily. She thought back to when he saved her life, and she thought it was funny that now their roles were reversed, with her putting an arrow in the back of the Chelybs' head. Her smile grew larger, and she went to take a rest of her own.

*a cybernetic human that uses dust as a power source and a weapon, very fast.


	7. Chapter 3

The Gathering

Abraham stalked through the woods, looking for the slight signs of the trail from the Bounty Hunter. He had been trying to locate the Rogue ever since the incident with the train. He had returned to Beacon to rest and gather supplies before he headed out. Without telling Ozpin.

Despite being in Beacon for most of his life, he still connected with the natural world very well. Doombeak had come back from hiding, and was perched on his shoulder. Finding the Bounty Hunter was hard for him, but with Arboria in his hand, he had the woodcraft to find the man. The piles of amber leaves had just blown over, and the flaming gold trees above him towered over him like ancient, royal emperors, outfitted in the gold, red, and white of their embroidery. He had missed the forests in his time at Beacon, with Doombeak, and the youthful trees there, as his only reminders of the great forests in which he had ventured in as a young boy. He shook his head to rid himself of his thoughts, and continued on his hasty path towards the Bounty Hunter.

* * *

I flew through the forest like a hawk intent on his prey, moving towards the three humans that had decimated a part of my pack, their blood and sweat a faintly wafting scent. The trees flew by me like anything else. They were inconsequential. My shadow went with me through the forest, as dark as my body, and I used my stinger's arm, like a tendril of darkness personified, to swing up into the tops of the trees, and, like some demonic creature, I glided with my cloak rigid, my eyes searching for my prey in the diverse canopies of gold and blood. It did not take long.

* * *

Drake was on the last dregs of his quickly fading adrenaline, he had been travelling for two days straight, trying to get back to his hideout as soon as he could. He was a black figure moving through the dense forest of red and gold. His encounter with the Hunter and the strange creature had kept him alert on his trip back. He didn't like this forest, it was too dense, the roots were too large and he had tripped over a few on his way to the clearing. It was stressing, but saved his life twice already from a Grimm ambush. He had begun to settle down for the evening, when his paranoia was acting up again. He quickly reached for The Nightingale and got ready for what came next.

Abraham, finally having found his target, burst into the small clearing, with Doombeak on his shoulder. The Bounty Hunter, unprepared for another human, did not shoot immediately, and Abraham crashed into him, knocking him to the floor and for a second stunning him, in his dazed state, he muttered 'This day is really not going my way.' Abraham quickly pulled him to his feet, and then nearly knocked him down again with his tremendous shouting 'What did you do that for?!' Stunned, the Bounty Hunter just answered back, stupidly 'What?' Before Abraham said anything else, a voice echoed through his head 'something's coming!' which was quickly followed by a large crack of a tree and a black shape flying through the air towards him.

I plunged through the sky, with the hunter just turning to look at me, and with detached fury in my glowing red eyes, I loosed my stinger to strike at him when suddenly and something struck me, saving his life. A well-sized bird fell to the forest floor, which was undoubtedly the hunters unwitting saviour. I refrained from going down and killing it firsthand, and focused on destroying the two warriors in the clearing. Using my cloak to fine tune my fall, I streaked down to meet the hunter, hopefully latching onto him and flaying his head until only a red-coated skull remained. But he nimbly dodged my attack, flying to the left, and then he brought his axe to bear, attacking in turn, but to my merit I used my cloak to deflect the blow. I brought my stinger about to bear, sweeping across the clearing and slamming the Bounty Hunter into a nearby tree, bringing him into the battle. I then used the momentum from striking the Bounty Hunter, and like a giant, deadly, pendulum swung it around to strike the Hunter. The Hunter took a heavy blow, winding him for a moment, but then the Bounty Hunter attacked. Two gleaming darts hit my cloak and bounced off harmlessly, but before I could react to them, they exploded, combining fire and ice, both struggling to consume the other, and shards of ice coated in fire flew my way. In an instant I retracted my stinger, returning it to its place inside my arm, and I leaped up, letting my leap carry me over the shards. One still managed to hit my cloak, exploding, and putting me off balance in the midst of my leap. I fell to the golden floor of the clearing, but I quickly leapt up just in time for the Hunter to attack me. Two crossbow bolts came at me suddenly, and I just barely evaded them, one skimming off my cloak, putting me off my balance.

Then the Hunter flashed into my vision suddenly, wielding his axe and almost decapitating me with it. I flew into the air, just as the Bounty Hunter dashed into the fray with his halberd-like weapon, smashing me out of my flight. I let my stinger loose, swiping at them and them dodging it. I formed shards of dust around me, and made them fly about the clearing while spinning on a pivot, creating a veritable tornado of death. I finished my spin, with the clearing at least ten times larger and blackened like mahogany wood polished by a master. I stood up, making my way to leave, when both the Bounty Hunter and the Hunter both leapt at me, knocking me to the ground, and the Hunter prepared a finishing blow, his deep, dark green aura flickering around his weapon, when I dodged his attack, lashing out with my stinger to hit him, but the Bounty Hunter quickly shot my stinger, smashing it against a tree, with poison leaking out. Howling in rage, I brought what was left of it around and smashed him into the ground, winding him, for a while this time. The Hunter brought his weapon down, sending a vibration that knocked us all down to our knees. I felt dazed, and the Hunter seemingly equally so with the exertion of ploughing his axe four feet into the hard, compact soil. We looked at each other, each preparing for either one of his opponents to make a move to strike us with another burst of power. After an eternity passed, I heard footsteps behind me, only to see a group of four hunters, wholly outfitted with powerful equipment, and at least twenty more Judicators*, outfitted in their uniform with their lightning-edge-rifles* and their blade shields*. I growled ineffectively, and the Bounty Hunter turned from left to right. They moved in and cuffed the Bounty Hunter and the Hunter, strangely I thought, but I had little time to think on it as a blunt pain from my head sounded through my mind, and all went dark.

*effectively SWAT teams, Highly trained, though do not use dust equipment.

*Blade shields become a knife attached to the upper wrist upon rifle format.

*lightning police-grade weapons are effectively tasers.

* * *

Abraham looked around his cell for the fiftieth time. It was cold and bleak, with the walls looming over him like great grey ogres. He had never liked the city, and he disliked the prison cell even more. There was no vegetation in sight, and the odour of sweat and blood permeated the room. Inevitably his eyes wandered to his two companions. His orange uniform was itchy, horribly crafted, and it stank. He was very irritated at his surroundings, but he knew that he had to have done it to have survived. In the moment when they were all incapacitated, he took his scroll out again and summoned a Hunter team and a Judicator team as well for good measure. The remaining time was torture, and for him the time in the prison cell was as well. Luckily Doombeak had been knocked out in his collision with the humanoid creature, and so was spared being investigated as well. Abraham had been charged with breaking the slaves out, which was perfectly legal in this time. He hated it more than anything else. Shaking the thoughts out of his head, he turned his attention yet again to his two companions. The Bounty Hunter was wearing the orange uniform as well, and his name was revealed to be Drake Venari, an orphan since he was six, his family was killed by a criminal gang called Infamous co. and he was discovered to be the sole survivor of his family, after he had been discovered near the borders of the Red Forest. His eyes wandered to his other companion, a patch of complete darkness on the otherwise sickly grey wall. They tried to take his obscuring cloak off, but none would get close to him with the gleam in his eyes, and no-one wanted to know. Even the seeker force* and Prof. Ozpin together could find no information except for a few isolated sightings, one involving the Bounty Hunter, Drake. Suddenly he looked up, and Abraham looked as well. It sounded like there was a struggle. Drake, even being an experienced in-listener, could only pick out some exited strands of language. 'I didn't do it!' The voice exclaimed. 'You don't have proof!' It shouted. 'Aww come on give me a break!' It whined annoyingly.

At that moment an impassive Protector* threw a man inside. Abraham examined him. He wore a tuxedo, he was handsome and fair-faced to match, and he had holsters for what would be pistols, if the guards hadn't taken them away from him like they had done to Abraham and Drake. The man looked around in slight interest, but then slumped down like the rest of them. A very long time passed, and 'wolf' became restless. He started pacing around the room, his cloak trailing behind him, and he would stop and look at parts of the cell for a long time. Eventually he simply sat back down and growled angrily. By that time, everyone in the cell had moved to the other side, unsure of what to think of him.

I sat back down, growling angrily at my failure of finding a way out of the cage I was in at that moment. I was in a room with three humans, and no way out, and no way to kill them without killing myself, and losing all my power over my pack. Only one thing consoled me. They were afraid. I got up again, and looked at the dark steel bars. The bars were as strong as ever, with no decorations, and with no pits and cracks, but then, finally, I knew, try as I might, that I could never break them down. I sat back down and surrendered myself to the dark dreams of a Grimm with a true soul*. And a true soul meant power, if it was tempered with training. Enough power to make the world turn to stone, and the stone to ash, and the ash to blackness.

*a average police officer, charged with protecting whatever he was supposed to. In this case, the jail, and the prisoners inside.

*Vytal's police intelligence force, like the Federal Bureau of Intelligence

*by true soul I mean a soul that has not been stolen, like most typical Grimm


	8. Chapter 4

The Dark Dream

Darkness. A gleam of yellow in the dark, like the gleam of greed in an eye which has found what it has always lusted after. Darkness again. A gleam of red, dark red, filled with the blood of evil souls, and the minds of psychopaths, the glee of wolves as they descend upon the bloodied deer, and the sadistic pleasure of the spider as it watches as its prey spasms and dies in the midst of agony, the pirate's greedy satisfaction as the bloated corpse of his rival comes floating down the river, and the reflection of dragon-fire in a dragon's eyes while he burns a newborn baby alive. The gleam stayed there, as if locking eyes with me for an eternity, and only slowly did I begin to realize that there was a great thundering, and what seemed to be the infinite darkness around him was resonating with the power of it. A great booming voice came down into the darkness, and the gleam became brighter, showing itself to be an eye. The voice boomed louder, but the eye moved no more.

Suddenly the darkness burst open to show light, and the full enormity of all what was around me. A great creature stood in the opening to the light, golden scales shining in the sun, with two golden horns crowning his golden head, with two wings as enormous as castles and as strong as tempered steel, and four legs as stalwart as towers and yet as agile as an elk's. But this was merely a silly child pretending to be what children thought of kings, and his face's proud, scornful expression turned to ash when the other creature arose from the shadows. It's face was as black as black could only envy, and it's eyes were a perfect reflection of the golden creature's blood. On its forehead there was a plate of Bone, as strong and hard and cold as the bones of pure evil, and four horns, like four great towers of pain, suffering, blood, and death, rising up from a sea of bone and shadow. It's wings rose up like great waves of darkness, and its legs were like cold dark mountains, covering the world in murk. A booming voice, infused with malice and evil, echoed out of it in response to the golden creature's voice.

The dark creature lunged up out of the darkness and smashed into the other creature, knocking it over like a huge, golden, domino. The creature fought back in vain, but powerfully, tearing great fields out of the earth, and launching them into the sky, making them look like great, floating islands, before they fell back down again, making brown, uneven, hills, and great open scars in the earth. The black creature barely flinched, looking like a mountain itself, until it's mouth opened like a great gate to hell, and black and crimson flames poured out of its mouth onto the golden creature. It writhed in excruciating pain, and then fell still, as darkness crept across its body, and gold turned to black and white and red. The black creature stepped off its opponent, and beneath it was a copy of the black creature, albeit lesser in stature . The greater creature roared, and a dark pulse emanated from it. Then the creatures of Grimm emerged from the forest, and all knelt before him.

* * *

I slowly awakened, to find myself in yet another cage, although the view was nicer, it was still a cage. It was made of blackened steel, much like the last one, with no furnishings, but, more importantly, I could not break it. The outside smelled of perfume and cleanliness, and morning light sifted in lazily. I could care no less. The only thing that was deserving of my attention was the man sitting behind a desk of oak, in a brass-buttoned black shirt, a green under sweater that reached up to his neck, and a dark grey jacket with dark green jeans that reached down to his ankles. He had silver hair, and his eyes followed suit. But the only two things about him that were deserving of my attention were that he was not afraid of me and that I could not kill him. He noticed that I was awake, probably from the gleam of red under my hood, and, unfazed, stood up. He slowly walked over to me, and leant on his cane, clearly showing his infirmity, just enough so to taunt me of my inability to kill him. I growled, and ineffectually lashed out at the cage with my stinger angrily, but the man did not flinch. I was angry, but yet I bided my time, seeing if there would ever be a chance to strike him down. He stood for a long while, observing me with his silver eyes, and I settled down, prepared for the long wait before anything would change in my favour. Eventually, after what seemed days, he spoke. 'Do you have a name?' I was surprised. He had stared at me so long I thought he must have been mute, and the stupidity of the question that he was asking made me question his mind's healthiness. The Grimm do not have names. I wanted nothing more than to go and tell him how wrong he was, but I had to maintain my disguise. I growled, and smashed against the cage. He looked at me strangely, as if knowing some secret, and then said 'I know you can speak. What is your name?' I knew that I could not disclose any secrets of the Grimm, as then the humans would turn their attention towards us and we would certainly be destroyed. I could not let that happen. It would destroy my chance to drape the dark blanket of oppression over all, as is the way of the Grimm. I thought almost desperately for a name that would fool the man in front of me, and I knew I had found the perfect answer when I remembered what the guards had called me. I kept all signs of any mental struggle beneath my robe, and replied with a growl. 'Wolf' I answered. It fit. A wolf takes what it wants when it wants, and only the strongest survive to rule. It was one of the purest expressions of the way of the Grimm. I "liked it", as a human would put it in his pathetic idea of language. 'Good' The man said, interrupting my thoughts. 'I see we understand each other. My name is Professor Ozpin.'

Drake was pulled to his feet roughly by the two protectors who guarded the cell, and by their grey gloved hands, he was forced out of the cell and moved down the hall, with five Judicators behind him and five in front of him, in their parade ground red and gold. He doubted they actually expected him to do anything stupid, but they weren't taking chances. If he wasn't in such a bad situation, he would have taken it as a compliment. He was taken up stairs, and across another corridor, this one looking better than before, with polished teak floors and glossed stone walls. They hurried him along them, and as Drake thought cynically about the cleaners surely rushing behind them, frantically polishing the floors in their wake, he almost smiled. Almost. They continued down the hall, and his thoughts, like a rebellious child, wandered back to White Archer, one of his only friends in the world, and maybe something more than a friend to him.

He wondered how she was doing, and why she hasn't attempted to rescue him yet. Probably for the best. He forced his thoughts away from her and onto the task at hand, which was now getting dragged by two protectors through a corridor whose floor was made of polished teak. They went up to a double-door, made of oak, with brass doorknobs and a bronze knocker. They hesitated, and one of them said 'you want to do it?' the other protector replied 'hell no, should we draw straws?' 'Nah, besides where would we even get the straws? We should play noughts and crosses.' A third came up from behind. 'Shut up there! If no-one's going to bleeding knock on the door, I'm going to have to do it myself!' before he could do what he promised, one of the guards that who was arguing with the other quickly jumped and knocked, wincing as he did so. He then opened the doors without waiting for a reply and thrust him inside.

* * *

There was only one man in the room besides him, behind an oak desk, but then the Judicators started to come in and fan out, their rifles tilted slightly downwards, but ready to target him if need be. The man in front of him had some very interesting clothing, with a brass-buttoned black shirt, made of the finest linen, and a dark grey jacket made of the same material, looking as if it was being constantly ironed to remove even the most microscopic of wrinkles. Below his shirt he wore a green sweater made of thick cotton that kissed his neck. His jeans were dark green, and he had black, unadorned glasses, but his cane was tipped in silver. He looked at Drake strangely, and simply said 'Your knife.' Drake was surprised, yet he hid it under his years of training. He feigned ignorance, saying 'What?' He regretted it instantly, as all the Judicators around him looked unsettled, and they all raised their weapons halfway, unsure as if he was telling the truth. Unsure of what he should do himself, he looked about and saw a cup of coffee in front of him. The man sitting behind the desk noticed it caught his eye, 'By all means.' He simply said. Instinctively, he reached out to take it, but then again, too, regretted that as they all now pointed their weapons straight at Drake's head, ready to fire the instant he tried to pull out a weapon. Calming his nerves, he continued to reach out slowly, grasping the cup and pulling it inwards to his mouth. "My reputation precedes me" Drake thought to himself, then tilting his head up to drink it down. It was still hot, and very strong. He coughed violently, almost gagging at the incredibly strong coffee.

After his coughing fit ended, he slowly looked up at the man again, meeting his gaze. He had a very slight smirk on his face, and asked almost innocently, 'So how was the coffee?' Drake responded awkwardly, caught off guard by his question 'ermm, yes it was good, good, very good, just a little bit hot that's all.' The man looked incredulously at him, still with that irritating smirk enameled onto his face, and said finally 'that still leaves the question of the knife, does it not?' Drake sighed deeply, knowing that the battle was lost for him, at least for the moment. 'It's in my right boot' he muttered glumly, and a Judicator quickly reached out and removed the knife from his boot, wary of him and any more hidden knives. The man spoke again 'I believe that means we are on equal terms now, Drake Venari, I believe?' he extended a hand 'My name is Professor Ozpin.'


	9. Chapter 5

An Old Friend

**A/N If you didn't know already, this fan fiction includes graphic scenes. So yeah, no children should be reading this, and so if you are still reading this, be prepared.**

**Mazon48: Oh yeah, I didn't mean sex. Anyhow, on a brighter note, I will be including these authors notes from now on. There will be more later on. So, disclaimers. I do not own RWBY, Marvel, or anything else I manage to take inspiration out of. The only things that belong to me are my OCs' and my additions to the RWBY universe. **

**P.S. **_**Hail Hydra.**_

Abraham waited patiently in the cell. "Wolf" and Drake had already been taken away for a few days now, and it was only a matter of time before they took him away as well, and he could get this whole dreadful business sorted out. He hoped. Luckily, two Protectors eventually came to the door. 'Hey Abraham, Professor's asked for your presence. Again.' he said exhaustedly 'Really, I'm wondering if you even like me,' he scoffed, 'with the way you've been disrespecting the law, it seems you actually _want_ to break the law, and if you disrespect the law, you know, you're disrespecting me, right? Now where have I heard that before?' he trailed off into his line of thought. Abraham waited with barely bated breath, and a baleful glare sour enough to wither a heart-tree. Eventually the Protector seemed to come back to reality. 'Don't look at me like that, Abraham, just thinking like you _always_ do, it wasn't like I was teasing you or anything.' Abraham was not amused. The Protector babbled on yet again. 'Ok, ok, you've made your point, I'll shut up, can you come with me now?' Abraham was spared the indignity of being dragged, and the horror of the protector's voice. When they made it to the double-door made from oak, with a brass doorknob and knocker, the Protector slipped away. Good riddance. Abraham knocked on the door, annoyed and slightly anxious at when the man inside would answer the door. Luckily he did not have long to wait. As the door opened he was treated to the glow of sunshine through a large window, and the stern face of his father-figure. He was obviously exhausted, for some reason. He gestured to a seat in front of his desk. Abraham immediately complied, and sat down, quickly making himself comfortable. Professor Ozpin slumped down into his chair, and then took a deep gulp of his coffee, which livened him up, as it usually did. He then jumped straight into the questioning. 'Why did you call the hunters? Did you rescue the slaves? What happened with that strange Grimm?' Abraham was shocked at the outburst from his usually reserved father figure, and paused, before answering his questions decidedly. 'I called the hunters because that _thing _was too strong, and-'

'Just tell me the whole story. From the beginning'

* * *

Drake knew he couldn't stay in the cell forever. He was in there with some kind of pervert and a monster, and he had little hope of him surviving, or even worse. He shuddered at what they would do with his corpse. They all needed a way out, fast. But Drake needed a plan. Unfortunately, he could not accomplish it on his own, and, sadly, he knew he was going to have to ask both of them for help. Deciding to get over the worst part, he sat next to Wolf, hoping to start a conversation. 'Ermmmm...Hi?' "Wolf" only growled. 'Alright so maybe we got off on the wrong foot. So Ermmmm... Yeah. Forgive and forget right?' "Wolf" started to get up. Quickly, Drake whispered loudly 'I want the same as you want! Escape, right?' "Wolf" continued to move away. 'We're going to kill things, blood! You like that, right? There's going to be plenty of it.'

"Wolf" turned around and growled hungrily. Drake's face lit up in hope. 'You in?'

"Wolf" growled out an answer. 'Only the strongest will survive.'

'I'll take that as a yes, then.' Drake quickly went over to talk to the pervert. 'Hey, can you help us escape?'

He looked surprised and disgusted at the same time. 'You're escaping with some crazy black monster thing!'

'And you're a pervert who is probably going to get castrated tomorrow.'

'Good point'.

All three of them gathered around the door. 'Ok so now we need a plan. Hey, do you think you can pick the lock or somethi-' Suddenly, "Wolf" ripped the entire door off its hinges,

'OH HOLY CRAP!'

Drake asked, still panicked 'Why didn't you do that before!?' "Wolf"**(A/N: Yes I will keep doing that because "Wolf" is a stupid name for a Grimm. Why? Because I said so.)** only shrugged.

Sirens started to go off. Peacebringers**(A/N I will stop having the apostrophes now, any information you want will be in the soon-to-be published bestiary)** flooded the room. 'Alright guys, _this_ is why we have a plan!' Drake exclaimed, pointing at the incoming Peacebringers. Sighing, Drake said, 'Ok, let's find a way to get ou-'

"Wolf" charged into battle with a howl for blood, tripping five of the Peacebringers with his stinger.

* * *

'Things would be _much_ better right now, if someone could stop interrupting me!' Drake said, directing a glare upon "Wolf", before charging into battle himself.

"Wolf" stabbed his right claw into one unlucky man's gut, dragging him up to look into his eyes. The man was shaking like a trapped rabbit with no chance of living. "Wolf" ripped his head off his shoulders with his left claw, still looking into that empty space where the man's head used to be. Then "Wolf" ripped off a good half of the man's head with his teeth. And then he swallowed. And then he howled.

Drake started to fight the Peacebringers, seemingly vanishing into the plentiful shadows, then appearing again behind one of them, saying 'sorry' in supplication to some uncaring being, before snapping his neck with a silent crack. Drake slid back into the shadows as lithely as a panther, taking the man's weapon with him.

Nathan summoned an apparition of himself, identical in body, but incorporeal, and moved it like a puppet towards one of the Peacebringers. Nathan was not particularly strong, but was powerful in spirit, tongue, and in bed. But the Peacebringer didn't know that. Drake materialised behind the distracted Peacebringer and tased him in the back of the head with his comrade's weapon, picking up the other weapon and transforming it into its baton form, then rushing off into the thick of the combat against the other ten Peacebringers. Nathan sighed disdainfully. He had never liked the thick of the fighting, preferring to kill his enemy from afar, indirectly. It gave him more time with the ladies, anyway. He knew that there was nothing much else he could do in the ferocious close combat of the battle, so he stood back, waiting for any time at which he could use his powers to good effect.

Wolf ripped into the humans, lost in the blood frenzy, a tornado of claws, a twister of blood. He swiped an uppercut with his stinger under one of the Peacebringer's guard, wrenching him into the air, following in pursuit like an eagle swooping inexorably towards a dove, with nothing to stop it's slaughter. Closing his eyes, Wolf found the area where the man's ribcage met, and opened his eyes. For a second he saw the man's expression of fearful, primitive, comprehension, before it disappeared in a seemingly endless shower of gore as Wolf ripped the man's ribcage apart into two sections.

Drake took down two of the distracted Peacebringers, then quickly transformed his weapons into pistol form and shot two others. The last Peacebringer started to run up the concrete stairs to the right, while Drake started turning to acquire the final target. Suddenly the man turned around and started to run back down the stairs, but not before Drake finished his turn, dropped to one knee, and shot both of the pistols in the man's back. The man stumbled to the ground, unconscious.

Drake shook himself out of the mist of the dance of death, and saw anew the horror that "Wolf" had caused. A head rolled over, the lower jaw separated from the rest of the head, a man with a rough tear through his abdomen, his guts spilling out like string, and over it all was a gruesome layer of blood, eyes, teeth, tongues, and an uncountable amount of other body parts. Drake used all of his self-control to stop himself from retching, and almost ran to the door, wanting nothing more than to get away from the smell of blood, flesh, maggots, and stomach acid, the grotesque carpet of blood and innards, and the obscene mangle of arms twisting through bodies, legs splayed out , kneecaps horrifically reversed so their feet touched their stomachs, and heads half-eaten, eyes glassed over, spinning on a nerve, still kept in grotesque movement by the forces that ripped the eye out. "Wolf".

'They didn't have to die.'

'Only the strongest survive.' replied Wolf, and Drake could imagine the horrific smirk spreading on Wolf's face.

**A/N If you were disturbed with the end of this chapter, good. You should be.**


	10. Chapter 6

Escape and Recruitment

**Mazon48: Hi y'all, today will be another action segment, more storytelling next chapter hopefully.**

Drake, determined to lead the way, stood at a crossroads. 'So... Which way to the armoury?' He said, almost to himself.

'Well, it may be the way with the giant "armoury" sign above it.' Nathan pointed out.

Brushing off the awkwardness, Drake spoke. 'Well, we're going that way then.'

They walked down the corridor, still made of rough concrete, stinking of stale sweat and blood. "Wolf" had brought some along with him, he supposed, and looked behind him. Wolf's robes were no longer black, but dark red, saturated with blood. Turning back to look forward hastily, he kept on walking.

"Wolf" could smell the distinct smell of gunpowder and dust, his sense of smell far beyond that of his "allies", and once again his thoughts turned to betrayal, to killing. He barely restrained himself with an excited shudder, remembering the destruction he could cause if he merely bided his time. Finally, as the group arrived at the armoury, the smell of the instruments of human destruction reached the noses of his "allies" pathetic sense of smell.

"Well, let's try to find our equipment and get out of here." said Drake, looking around for his Nightingale, Ursa's claws, and throwing knives, as Nathan looked for his Silver Bloods. "Wolf" merely stood there impatiently, looking aimlessly around. 'Thank goodness he's not running off again' Thought Drake, and he turned back to finding his weapons. Nathan was the first to find his weapons, twirling his pistols on his fingers, before strapping his holsters on and holstering his weapons. Drake then found his Ursa's claws, putting them in the elastic of his orange prisoner's wear with a grimace. He then pulled out his Nightingale and his knives, strapping his bandoliers of knives around his body, and securing the Nightingale through the loops in them. He then got up, finally finding his mask, guessing which direction to go, and striding off purposefully. Wolf followed leisurely, while Nathan got up to Drake, speaking to him.

"So what's the plan?" Nathan asked.

"We get out of Beacon." Drake responded

"How the hell are we going to do that?"

"By running." And Drake broke off into a sprint, Nathan muttering something under his breath about having an actual plan before running off after him. "Wolf" started to run after them, using his stinger to propel himself around corners, not wanting to be missing a chance to cull humans. He laughed to himself, a hollow, sadistic laugh, as he thought how well humans can kill themselves, given the chance.

Drake rounded the corner, hoping to find that it led to the outside, where they had the advantage. He was brought face-to-face with a Judicator team of ten to twenty men, as well as the hunter in the forest he had seen a few days ago. Cursing under his breath, he shot his Nightingale to increase his momentum, smashing through the judicators, with Nathan sprinting behind him, trying to avoid being caught by the Judicators.

Abraham rushed down the hallways, keeping pace with Professor Ozpin as they tried to intercept the Bounty Hunter, the Pervert, and "Wolf". The corridors changed from polished teak to rough concrete, and the corridors changed from the pleasant scent of wood, to the stale sweat of students and prisoners both. They turned a corner to the sound of a few Judicator teams getting ready, just before the Bounty Hunter suddenly turned around the corner in front of them, cursing under his breath before smashing through the ranks of the Judicators, The Pervert following close behind him, both sprinting too quickly for anyone to catch. Then "Wolf" spun around the corner, coming towards them as fast as fate, and they were too busy defending themselves to think of much else.

Drake smashed through the Judicators and through to the gardens in Beacon, thanking god for taking mercy on him. He rushed through the gardens, green with well-trimmed hedges, wanting to get to the airships as soon as possible, not sure if anyone was behind him, and not really caring.

"Wolf" fell upon the startled Judicators, swiping an upraised shield out of his way before swinging his stinger at the Hunter, stabbing into his shoulder, who quickly pulled it out, but "Wolf" was already rushing towards Abraham, the momentum of his stinger making him practically fly through the air. Abraham had barely enough time to tilt his head out of the way before "Wolf" slashed at him, leaving five light scratches on his cheek.

"Wolf" continued running, needing to catch up to his allies, caring nothing more for the Hunter he had passed than for the ripe blueberry bushes he slashed great gouges in as he passed.

Drake stopped at the sight of the airfield, panting, with Nathan behind him. He quickly caught his breath, and stepped out, looking for a fast airsh- 'Hey, Drake, over here!'

* * *

'What!?' He immediately raised his weapon, looking around suspiciously

'In front of you, doofus.'**(A/N Yes, it's a word.)**

Drake looked up, and saw White Archer**(A/N Remember her?)**, waving out the window, an annoyed expression on her face. Too tired to ask any more questions, Drake and Nathan clambered onboard the airship, moving towards the cockpit. As soon as Nathan saw White Archer, he immediately went into seductive mode. 'Hey, beautiful.' he purred in his most seductive voice, he was sure that no woman could resis-

Nathan felt a strange sensation of falling, slowly and beautifully, like he always was, except maybe a bit faster, and more handsome, and- he cut his thoughts out, telling himself that he was nothing like the sensation he was feeling. Then it all came back and he quailed, before smacking into some very hard, metal stairs, and the sound of a door clunking shut from... somewhere, as he had lost all sense of direction. He moaned in pain annoyingly, and to his surprise, the door opened. He knew they would help. 'Can we throw him off now?' A female voice sounded somewhere above him. This did not compute with him. A woman, rejecting him? And wanting to push _him_ off an airship, handsome, irresistible, _him?_

His curiosity was replaced with fear as he processed what she had said, but before he could prepare himself for a fall off the airship, he heard shouts from around a corner, and his kind-of friend ushering the sadistic woman away from him, up the stairs again and the sounds of the engine starting. He sighed in relief, getting up, and quickly looking around. The airship, unlike the huge, extravagant ones that they used to transport students, was spartan in decoration, the only seating being a metal shelf welded into the back of the cargo bay. The rest of the bay was filled with cargo boxes, probably containing ammunitions, Dust, and rations. Nathan looked back towards the half-open military-style out-sideways airship door, and the rapidly retreating tarmac. His eyes drew him to a black-cloaked figure who he immediately recognised, followed by a group of Judicators, the other person who he met in the cell, and an old man with a cane, who Nathan knew he should know, but he wasn't from around Vale. He started to close the door.

"Wolf" looked up at the ascending airship, and it's closing door was zoomed in by his mind, seeing clearly the doors metallic glint, and instinctively knowing the distance he would need to be at. All was in place. "Wolf" ran full pelt on all fours, before coming onto the airfield, grappling onto a plane wing, using his momentum in a pendulum motion to propel himself vertically into the air. He righted himself in the air, before lashing his stinger out, into the closing door and pulled himself violently into the airship, jerking the airship towards him.

Nathan was about to close the door, when an all-too-familiar stinger stabbed into the doorframe, making him jump, before the stinger tensed, and the ship was wrenched in its direction as that _monster_ flew into the room. Nathan whipped out his Silver Bloods, preparing for a desperate last fight, but the monster merely walked past him, muttering something to itself as it stalked towards the cockpit.

'We had a rule about using my name.' stated Drake, glaring at White Archer, his mask now on, covering up his black hair and turquoise eyes, and the faint scar that ran down from just above his left eyebrow and down to his right cheek. Instead, the mask stared at her, machinery sleekly functioning in myriad tasks such as life support and information filtering, all hiding his true face. It saddened her to see him put himself through this, that he couldn't embrace himself as a person, as a human being. 'White Archer?' She shook herself back to reality, chiding herself on staying too long in her own thoughts. 'Yeah, sorry.' She muttered noncommittally.

'I hope you are.' said Drake dubiously, before returning his absolute attention to the controls, remembering that they were being pursued by some very annoyed Judicators, as well as a Hunter, in the middle of Beacon, one of the most prestigious academies on Remnant. This was going to be hard. Suddenly, the airship was jerked back nearer to the airfield, a very loud clunk sounding from the cargo bay just after. Drake quickly took out the Nightingale, jumped out of the bare steel seat, and dropped to one knee before the door, Nightingale at the ready. The door opened, and Drake almost shot his weapon before he recognised who it was. He kept his gun trained on "Wolf", while he merely walked in, noting another person in the cockpit, while looking at the expansive cockpit, with analogue buttons, levers, and joysticks, all controlling elevation, flight patterns, and velocity.**(A/N This is set a generation before RWBY, so most of the equipment is analogue)** White Archer quickly spun around, splitting her bow into three pieces, the grip and the two limbs, bringing the string to lock into the grip, and unsheathing the limbs into daggers, so that her bow was transformed into two daggers attached by the bowstring to the grip, so it could be swung around as a deadly cutting weapon. Before White Archer could attack "Wolf", Drake rushed up to her and put a hand on her shoulder looking into her eyes as an all-right gesture. White Archer quickly turned her weapon back into its bow form, her practice, led by Drake, or Sabre as he liked to be called, giving her incredible speed. A knock sounded at the cockpit door, and everyone turned around to face the noise. "Wolf" looked with an uncaring disdain at the door, Drake's, or rather Sabre's emotion was unknowable through his mask, while White Archer was staring daggers at the door. Before anyone could say anything, something exploded. White Archer spun back to look at the controls. 'Fudging Sugar!' They began to rapidly descend, while White Archer quickly tried to realign the ship, while censoring herself loudly. Drake clambered into the seat next to her and started pressing buttons and pulling levers maniacally, assisting White Archer, trying to stop the airship from crashing.

Abraham ran full pelt towards the taking off airship, desperately thinking of a plan to disable it, and quickly thought of one. 'One of you!' Abraham addressed the Judicators, a plan three steps ahead of the action. 'Shield boost me up!' Abraham slowed down while one of the Judicators ran ahead of him, kneeling down on the tarmac, raising his shield above him, waiting for Abraham. Abraham picked up speed, sprinting towards the Judicator while concentrating his aura. As he stepped onto the shield, the Judicator pushed his shield upwards, launching Abraham into the air. Abraham narrowed his vision onto the escaping airship, bringing his weapon to bear in one aura-powered throw. He threw the Night-Wither at the airship's engine, hitting the target dead on with his training, punching through the engine, destroying it. Abraham gulped, before he began to fall back down. A few yards away, the airship crashed.

Sabre stumbled out of the airship, giving Nathan and White Archer a hand. "Wolf" refused any help they might give him. They all stumbled out of the airship, brushing off the dust while they all searched for a way out of Beacon, and rummaging around in the wreck for their weapons. Sabre quickly tapped everyone on the shoulder, alerting them to the rapidly approaching squad of Judicators. Sabre quickly grabbed some of the shrapnel pieces, dropping to one knee and planting the Nightingale into the ground with its blade, flicking out the trigger, the bolt, and the scope from the notches in the Nightingale. Sabre then loaded the shrapnel into the Nightingale, firing upon the Judicators. Most of the shots were deflected or evaded, but one or two found their mark, as one of the Judicators keeled over from a stomach wound. White Archer turned her weapon into blade form, preparing for close combat, while Nathan shot his Silver Bloods at the Judicators, taking down another. Half of the Judicators suddenly dropped to one knee, firing their weapons into the group, while the other Judicators charged unimpeded.

"Wolf" ignored the bullets the others feared, and charged straight into the advancing charge. He leaped over a low swung swipe of a sword, catching an overhand blade swing and deflecting it, before leaping upon one of the Judicators. He ducked under one of the Judicators' swings, catching him in a quick claw slash, quickly upper cutting him with his claws, before "Wolf" jumped back, narrowly avoiding a counter shield bash, before he used his stinger to latch onto another Judicator, grappling onto them, before jumping in and knocking them over. She was a female, with black hair and hazel-nut eyes. "Wolf" ripped her throat out. Getting up, "Wolf" saw one of the Judicators charge towards him, a faint force-field rippling up around him. Before "Wolf" could do anything, he was bull rushed by the Judicator. "Wolf" clawed madly at the Judicator, but his force-field protected him. The Judicator screamed at the top of his lungs in rage, turning his sword into a gun, and firing it repeatedly into the cowl of "Wolf" until "Wolf" collapsed, knocked unconscious from the amount of lightning gone into his body.

Sabre and Nathan, pinned down by the suppressive fire, hid in the wreck of the ship. They quickly went to the cockpit to see if they could scale one of the nearby cliffs. But the Judicators threw in a taser grenade, electrocuting them both so they passed out. White Archer swung her weapon in its blade form, incapacitating one of the Judicators with a slice across the armpit, almost severing his arm, and slicing another Judicator with a scratch on one cheek. She continued to swing her weapon, the two blades leaving scratches on everyone, before two Judicators caught the wires of her weapon, pulling the wires taut so that she flew forward onto another Judicator's fist, knocking her out cold.

* * *

Drake came to, feeling his body for any wounds. His entire body was sore. Drake opened his eyes to a view from a window. Drake tested his body for bonds, and found that his arms and legs were cuffed to a chair. Sighing mentally in resignation, Drake took in the sunset from the window. He beheld the entranceway to Beacon, with the beowolf statue and fountains, the well-kept gardens, and the lampposts, now being lit by some of the maintenance crew. Drake now drew his eyes to the sunset. The colours ranged from an orange peach, all the way to a deep purple. It was undeniably one of the better sunsets Drake had seen, no longer obscured by smog from the city. He looked at his immediate surroundings, seeing his escapees sitting next to him, also bound, but still unconscious. Drake heard footsteps behind him, but he couldn't turn to see who it was. Professor Ozpin walked around in front of Drake. Drake tried to say something, but all that came out was a garbled mess.

'The Taser grenades have the unfortunate side effect of scrambling speech patterns for a while. In a few minutes you should be able to speak normally. Coffee?' Ozpin said, presenting a cup of coffee. Drake politely refused through gestures, remembering his last encounter with Professor Ozpin's coffee. They waited for a few awkward minutes as the others came to, and as Drake and Nathan repeatedly tried to speak. Finally Drake was able to form words. 'Do we have a sentence?' He asked, fearing for how long they would have to stay in prison.

'Well, since you were all accomplices, you will share a communal sentence, let's see... 10 counts of murder, around 20 counts of assault, breaking and entering, hijack of vehicle, littering... that would be... 50 years for all of you, at best.' A woman said from behind the escapees

'Thank you, Glynda. Now, I'm supposing none of you want that kind of sentence.' Everyone except "Wolf" shook their heads vigorously, while "Wolf" merely shrugged. Ignoring "Wolf", Ozpin continued 'So, we are offering an alternative.'

'We are?' Glynda asked, confused.

'Yes, Glynda.' Ozpin continued in his calm tones. 'I have organised the paperwork,' the escapees looked confused, but Ozpin still continued 'So, if there are no objections,' he paused for a moment, 'I will assume you will take me up on this offer. Welcome to Beacon.' Ozpin waited a while for the news to sink in. White Archer first spoke up. 'But, isn't that more like, an honour or something?'

Ozpin continued, ignoring her 'You will be treated like normal hunters and huntresses in training, except that you will be placed under surveillance, and you are not allowed to leave the city of Vale. although "Wolf", you will be resting in a secured location until you earn our trust. That is all. You will be sleeping in the ballroom tonight, take two lefts and a right.'

The escapees sat there, unsure how to get out of their bindings.

'The handcuffs aren't locked.' Ozpin stated.

Everyone quickly freed themselves, and started to shuffle away awkwardly, still sore from their encounter.

When they all left, Glynda Goodwitch turned back to look at Professor Ozpin in a fury. 'You just let five highly dangerous individuals, one of them a creature of Grimm, no less, go, and not only that, gave them access to some of the best equipment and training on Remnant!'

Professor Ozpin turned back to look around calmly, and said 'Their problems will take care of themselves, and anyways, we are always in search of good material to make into hunters.'

Glynda Goodwitch calmed herself before responding. 'Talking of good material, that Judicator, the one that took down that monster-'

'I have already sent him up here to report.'

* * *

Both the teachers heard the door opening, as a red faced, furious, Judicator charged into the room. 'I fought that god damned monster, and now you're letting him run loose! What are you doing?' He shouted, while Ozpin barely flinched

'If we had put him in jail, he would have escaped. If we give him something to kill, he will not. On a brighter note, how would you like something new to do?' Ozpin said, placating the Judicator.

'I'm in.' Said the Judicator. _He is very compulsive _thought Ozpin to himself.

'Well then,' said Ozpin 'Welcome to Beacon.'

'Alright, as long as I can eat chicken.'

Ozpin sighed. 'Yes, there is chicken served in the mess hall. Tonight, you will sleep in the ballroom, take two lefts and a right. Inform your leader of your resignation. I also believe you will want to retrieve your weapons. You will have need of them.'

**Wahoo! I think that was one of my longest chapters yet! A few of the next chapters will be written by my friend, also, this story is behind a generation from RWBY's story, so there will be no clashes (much).**

**Song of the day:"Everybody wants to rule the world"**


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